


A Kind Word and a Gun

by Laces



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean goes by Michael Wesson sometimes - Freeform, Gun Violence, M/M, Mob Boss Sam Winchester, Organized Crime, Poisoning, Relationship built on lies, Sam goes by Sam Wesson sometimes - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-28
Updated: 2019-06-27
Packaged: 2019-10-16 05:30:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17543606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laces/pseuds/Laces
Summary: “Happy anniversary? Happy anniversary? You. Shot. Me. and you have the nerve to waltz in here and tell me happy anniversary?!”Or: In which Sam is a crime boss and Luke has been hired by the LAPD to take him down.





	1. There's No Such Thing as a Coincidence

**Author's Note:**

> "You can get much farther with **a kind word and a gun** than you can with a kind word alone." ~ Al Capone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I saw a screenshot of a prompt of this idea on Facebook a really long time ago and decided to try my hand at it. The prompt talked about a mob boss and a police officer being married and this is where I went with it. Enjoy! xxx

_“I’m home!” Luke called out as he opened the door of their house, treading carefully. Just pretend everything’s fine, just pretend everything’s fine.._

_“Fuck!” A muffled, pained curse conveniently sounded from the kitchen and he winced._

_“Happy anniversary!” he called as he stepped through the doorway to find his partner sitting at the breakfast bar, his brother hovering and just now setting a needle and thread down as Luke cleared the doorway. The bar was covered in medical supplies - rubbing alcohol, needles and stitching thread, gauze (both clean and bloodied), and the all-important bottle of whiskey. Dean doused the freshly-stitched wound on Sam’s arm with rubbing alcohol as Sam lifted his head to glare at his husband._

_“Did you hear him, Dean? Did he just say happy anniversary to me? Because I think that’s what he said but maybe the blood loss has me a little delirious,” Sam asked as he stared Luke down over Dean’s shoulder._

_“I believe he did, Sam,” Dean confirmed, wrapping gauze around Sam’s arm. When he finished, he picked up a miniature ziploc bag from the table as Sam took a swig straight from the whiskey bottle. Dean approached Luke, holding the bag out._

_“I'm pretty sure lead isn't on that list of anniversary gifts. I guess you could go ahead and say it's copper if you want to stretch, but even then, copper isn't until year seven. You’re a couple years early so I figured you may want this back. Gift it to him for the right anniversary; however, I’m not sure if you’ll make it that long,” Dean admitted, handing over the bag. Luke looked at the bag, recognizing the skewed piece of metal as the remnants of a bullet - the bullet that Dean had just dug out of Sam’s arm._

_“This year is wood, huh?” Luke answered, still staring straight at Sam._

_“Yeah. I’m gonna uh, head out. I don’t need to be here for this,” Dean replied, gathering his belongings as Luke looked back down at the stripped bullet in his hand. To the couple’s credit, they remained silent until the Impala pulled out of their driveway._

_“So uh, happy anniversary,” Luke murmured quietly as Sam took another swig of whiskey._

_“Happy anniversary? Happy anniversary? You. Shot. Me. and you have the nerve to waltz in here and tell me happy anniversary?!”_

__**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Five Years Prior ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~** _ _

____

____

Car off. Phone, wallet, quarter for the parking meter. Luke stepped out, pressing the lock button out of habit as he did so. The door was a few inches away from closing before he realized the keys were still inside and he turned on his heel, trying to grab it but missing it by an inch. 

“Dammit!” He shouted, leaning against the car door for a moment and sighing. 

“Need a hand?” A voice called out and Luke looked up to see if the comment was addressed to him. A large man with long brown hair was standing on the sidewalk, a little smile on his lips and an eyebrow raised. 

“I’m going to have to call for someone. I locked my keys in the car,” Luke explained and the man smirked, waving him off. 

“Just a second,” he assured. Luke watched as the stranger moved a few cars down, unlocking the door with a button on his key fob. He popped the trunk, removing something quickly before jogging back over. “You good if I touch your car?” He requested, raising an eyebrow. 

“Uh, if you can get me back in, go ahead,” he allowed, taking a step back to watch the man attempt. He jimmied something under the top of the door that appeared to be a- “Is that a blood pressure cuff?” Luke found himself asking, moving closer to identify the object and watch the stranger. The man just winked at him and began to pump air into the cuff part, gently prying the door open enough for him to lower a plastic rod into the door frame. Within two minutes, the stranger was opening his car door and leaning in to retrieve Luke's keys. 

Luke most definitely did not stare as the man’s pants tightened over his ass when he bent over and he absolutely did not blush when the other stood and turned around with his keys in hand. 

“See? Easy as that,” the man told him with a relaxed grin. 

“I don’t know if I should be impressed or concerned about how easy that was for you,” Luke responded, taking the keys from him. The other laughed, pushing strands of hair out of his face, and it made Luke smile. 

“No need to be concerned. I own a garage,” the other explained. 

“Well, Mr. Garage, I appreciate your time. How much would you usually charge to save a dumbass?” 

“It’s free for the pretty ones.” The answer was quick and followed by a wink. “But don’t get too impressed, that’s the only trick up my sleeve. I run the background, my brother deals with the cars.” Luke most certainly did not blush at Mr. Garage’s words, pausing for only a second before glancing at his watch. 

“Well, you still saved my ass. And since you just saved me, I’m still early for work. Can I buy you a coffee?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. Mr. Garage smirked in response, sliding his hands into his pockets. 

“Depends. You aiming for coffee from _here_? Because absolutely not, in that case,” he replied shamelessly, laughing brilliantly. 

“Hey, I’m new here and I’m desperate for caffeine. I haven’t had time to scope out a decent coffee place, I just typed Starbucks into my GPS,” Luke defended. The other held out his arm, crooked at the elbow, and raised an eyebrow. 

“Three minute walk from here, there’s a hole-in-the-wall cafe. You can thank me later,” he offered. Luke looked at the time again before shrugging. 

“Okay, sure,” he agreed. The other looked down at his offered arm pointedly and Luke raised an eyebrow. “I don’t even know your name.” 

“Thought you named me Mr. Garage?” The hazel-eyed man asked, grinning. “I’m Sam. Sam Wesson.” 

“Luke Alighieri.” 

The two stared each other down for a solid thirty seconds before Luke slid his hand through the opening Sam had made, taking his arm and following him down to the cafe. 

\-- 

“You’re late!” Dean yelled as soon as Sam stepped out of his car. Sam rolled his eyes, slamming the car door shut and trashing his now-empty coffee cup. “You’re late and you got coffee without bringing me any,” Dean corrected, glancing over towards the garage when one of the doors started rolling up. 

“I think you can handle one delivery on your own, can you not?” Sam questioned, opening a cabinet and pulling out Dean’s mug. He secured it in place under the Keurig, popped a cup into the slot, and slammed it shut. “There - coffee for the missus,” he added. Dean flipped him off, muttering under his breath, and Sam merely sat down at his desk. “The delivery, Dean?” Sam pressed again. 

“We got a townie in the garage getting serviced,” Dean excused and Sam gave his brother an unamused look. 

“And I’m sure Benny will make sure they stay where they belong. The delivery, please,” he pressed, his patience running thin. Dean got up, going into the back room and retrieving a black case. He set it down in front of Sam before grabbing his mug, the Keurig finally finished. Sam opened the case, eyeing the new gun with a pleased glint in his eyes. His fingers itched but he paused, retrieving a pair of gloves from his desk drawer and putting them on before removing the piece from its cushioned case. “Oh she’s a beauty,” Sam murmured quietly, inspecting it thoroughly and beginning to take it apart. 

When the phone rang, both brothers looked up to see which one it was. Dean got to the “townie phone” before Sam could even be bothered and lifted it to his ear. 

“You’ve got Michael Wesson of Wesson’s Garage. What can I do for you today?” 

\-- 

“You must be Commander Alighieri!” 

Luke had barely stepped a few feet into the precinct before someone was clapping a hand on his shoulder. The first thing that crossed his mind was the question of why said person was free enough to have been waiting for him to walk through the door; however, he smiled anyway and nodded, glancing around. 

“I am. And you are?” 

“Commander Herron. I’m over homicide - I’m afraid our jobs tend to overlap more and more lately.” 

“So I’ve heard. Mind showing me around a bit?” 

Commander Herron walked Luke around the building, introducing him to necessary people, before finally introducing him to and leaving him with his subordinates. Luke exchanged pleasantries with his team before sitting down at his new desk and looking at the giant stack of casefiles. 

“We’ve been spending the majority of our resources on the Winchester brothers, as of late, Sir. It’s as if they’re ghosts. We only got names a few weeks ago after trying to keep track of their work for ages,” Captain Novak explained to him. The man was to be his second-in-command here and was obviously eager to get back to work after the brief pause with the loss of his previous boss. 

“How’d we finally get names?” 

“Someone stepped forward, he asked for protection in exchange for information.” 

“You gave someone witness protection solely for a last name? Come on, Novak, he had to have given you more than that,” Nick muttered, opening one of the files and flipping through it to find the miniscule witness section. 

“Sir, he came in in a frantic panic - blurted out that he had worked for the Winchester brothers and would tell us everything we wanted to know as long as we gave him protection in return. It was too late though - he was already very ill by the time he came in and he died soon after of poisoning - sarin. Extremely lethal, it’s how we lost Commander Jackson and a couple officers, just from exposure to the witness. And now that we know that the Winchesters have access to such a toxin, our approach to the case has to change.” 

“I was told Commander Jackson was killed in the line of duty via poison but received no details. I don’t think I’ve ever even heard of sarin. Do we have a toxicology report somewhere?” Luke requested. Captain Novak immediately began flipping through the stack of files on the desk before sliding a thin one out and handing it over. 

“It’s a man-made poison around twenty-five times more deadly than cyanide. It can be in liquid or vapor form and someone who is poisoned can emit the vapor so heavily that one can be contaminated just by touching their clothing. It was used as chemical warfare between the forties and the nineties but outlawed before the turn of the century. Exposure eliminates the body’s ability to remove stimulation to glands and muscles. Your nose runs, your eyes water, you begin to pour sweat and drool, you have very little control of waste removal, and the muscles convulse rapidly until you die, which can happen anywhere between minutes and a couple hours after exposure,” Novak explained, having already read up extensively on the drug that had brutally killed both his boss and fellow officers. “The _only_ good news is that is has an extremely short shelf life so they’d have to continue making it if they wanted to continue usage. And the more they risk messing with it, the higher chances of fatalities on their end,” he continued, sighing. 

Luke looked up from the file and gave the Captain a sympathetic smile. 

“Castiel, right?” Luke asked, wanting to double-check from the brief introduction from earlier. The other nodded so Luke continued. “Castiel, we’re going to figure this out. There will be justice for Commander Jackson and the other officers who had their lives taken that day, I assure you. We will get the Winchesters if it’s the last thing I do.” 

Castiel, who had appeared rather solemn and glum as he had explained the effects of the toxin, now gave Commander Alighieri a small smile. 

“Thank you, Commander. I am at your service,” the Captain told him. He was soon dismissed and headed over to his own desk, unlocking his computer. His desk wasn’t very personalized but it did have a few knick-knacks here and there - a small magnet that read ‘Save the Bees!’, a photo of a small kitten, and a small framed photograph of him standing with a gorgeous freckled man, staring into piercing green eyes with large, happy smiles on their faces. Castiel glanced at it for a moment and ran his thumb over the frame. 

“Time for a brand new game of zigzag. You go left and I’ll make sure everyone else goes right,” he whispered to the man in the photo, smiling all the while. 

\-- 

**You were right. I was nervous I wouldn’t find good coffee here - I’m relieved to find that I was wrong. LA**

_You’re lucky we found each other. Would’ve been late to work and suffered with shitty coffee. SW_

**My knight in shining armor. LA**

**However, I don’t think you got much out of the deal. LA**

_You know it. SW_

_I got free coffee and the company of a gorgeous man. SW_

_Where did you move from? SW_

**If you believe it, I’ll take it. LA**

**Chicago. LA**

_So L.A. is a big change then. SW_

**Not in my line of work, no. LA**

_Hmm? SW_

**Law enforcement. Pretty similar crime patterns both places. LA**

_Came all the way across the country to be a cop? SW_

**I was looking for something new. Opportunity arose and I couldn’t turn it down. LA**

_Opportunity like what? SW_

**LAPD’s police commander of organized crime and vice. LA**

_How did you manage that? SW_

**The old one was killed - made it a tad easier to get the position. LA**

**Sorry, distasteful. LA**

**I was chief of police in Chicago. They called me ‘Lucifer’ over there - I’m kinda a hardass and had a decent reputation as such. I wanted to take a step down, chief is too political, too administrative for my tastes. Position opened here in L.A. and they were eager to take me once I explained that I knew I was overqualified but didn’t care. LA**

_Lucifer. I like that. SW_

_Thanks for the coffee. Gotta get back to work. SW_

\-- 

_If_ Sam was smart, he would’ve deleted Luke's number from his phone right then and there. He would’ve ignored the man the next time he texted and pretended as if he had no clue who Luke Alighieri was. _If_ Sam was smart, he wouldn’t have responded to Luke's text that evening asking about a good place to get Thai food and he most definitely wouldn’t have agreed to join him for said Thai food. However, Sam Winchester may have been a genius - but that didn’t make him smart. 

Not when there was a beautiful man involved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thrive on your feedback, so let me know what you think! This will be chaptered but not near as long as Last First Kiss. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed! xxx


	2. Cat and Mouse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Luke make progress and Cas has a revelation! Enjoy! xxx

“Okay, okay, enough about me. I talked all this morning, I want to know more about you,” Luke said soon after their food had arrived, pointing his chopsticks at Sam. 

“Who says I want to tell you my secrets?” Sam rivaled, raising an eyebrow and making the other man chuckle. 

“Guess I’ll just have to do a background check then - breakfast and dinner together all in one day, I should probably get to know you a bit better before spending any more time with you.” 

“May I remind you that _you_ are definitely the one who invited _me_ both times?” 

“I was thanking you this morning and merely wanting company in a new place this evening. Nothing more than that,” Luke said, a dusting of pink on his cheeks as he picked up his water glass. 

“Ah. So as soon as you make more friends, you’ll throw me to the wayside?” Sam questioned, feigning an upset look. 

“See, I quite like the fact that you call me attractive so often, so I may just have to keep you around for the ego boost,” Luke claimed and they both laughed. “No, I won’t throw you to the wayside - as long as you tell me about yourself,” he added with a smirk. 

“Well, I have a brother named Michael-” 

“Older or younger?” 

“You practically beg me to tell you about myself and then you interrupt me within my first sentence!” Sam chided, nudging Luke’s foot. “He’s older by four years but he sure as hell doesn’t act like it. That’s it for blood family these days, actually.” 

“Really? Just you two?” 

“Yeah. It was us and our dad but he died a few years back, when I turned nineteen.” 

“I don’t like how you reference nineteen as being a few years back - how old are you?” Luke questioned, raising an eyebrow and making Sam chuckle. 

“I’m twenty-seven,” Sam offered. “But ‘a few years back’ sounds better than almost a decade ago, Jesus.” 

“I’m thirty-six, Sam. I was your age ‘almost a decade ago.’ You’re still but a child,” Luke claimed, narrowing his eyes at him teasingly. “Have you always lived in L.A.?” 

“I mean, in some sort of way, I guess? We were born here but mom died after I was born. My dad wasn’t prepared for an infant and a toddler by himself, so we ended up going to stay with our Uncle for a while in South Dakota. But then Dad wanted us back so we came back to California and he was pretty damn wishy-washy about his opinion of us until Michael turned eighteen. So we were in and out of various boarding schools or our Uncle’s place until then, then we came back to California to stay for good,” Sam explained, taking a bite of his dinner after his rambling. 

“That’s really shitty of him, honestly,” Luke said bluntly, not even remotely willing to sugarcoat. 

“He just… He didn’t really understand how to be a dad. Apparently he was excited when mom was pregnant but that was only because he knew she was going to be a wonderful mother and would make up for him. And I’ve heard the she was, to Michael, for those first few years. So it was a pretty harsh blow to him, you know? Losing your wife and getting a newborn at the same time?” 

“Did she die during childbirth?” 

“Yeah, she did. But, you know, this isn’t really the nicest conversation to be having the second time that we’ve spoken to each other. I think we got off topic pretty fast,” Sam suggested, taking a sip of his water. Luke gave him a sheepish look and nodded. 

“Sorry. I’m just.. You have an interesting story, Sam. I shouldn’t have pried, I had no right to ask about something that personal,” Luke apologized solemnly. Sam gave him a smile and reached across the table, giving Luke’s hand a quick squeeze and shaking his head. 

“No, it’s fine. I’m just sure there are far better things to talk about than my childhood. Why don’t you tell me about you? Organized crime, huh? Tell me what led you to here, Lucifer,” Sam finished with a smirk, leaning back in his seat as Luke took over the conversation once more. 

\-- 

When Sam walked through the door that evening, Dean was sitting on his sofa and lifted a beer to him in greeting. Sam wasn’t phased - despite owning two townhouses right beside each other, it didn’t stop his brother from spending the majority of his time there with him. The only time he even bothered going to his own place was if Cas was staying the night. He retreated to his bedroom, changing out of his clothes and into sweatpants and a t-shirt before finding his way back to the living room, finding a spot beside his brother easily. 

“Where you been?” Dean asked, not appearing to actually care about the answer. 

“Dinner with a new friend.” 

“‘New friend?’ Is that what we’re calling hookups now?” 

“Not a hookup. You really think I’d be home so soon if it were a hookup?” 

“Could’ve fucked first, then ate,” Dean suggested with a shrug. 

“He wasn’t a hookup, Dean.” 

“Was it a date then?” 

“No. Doesn’t fucking matter, anyways, it’s none of your damn business,” Sam snapped, resulting in Dean lifting his hands up in surrender and turning back to the television. 

\-- 

**Please explain to me why my employees are all dumbasses. LA**

_I definitely feel that way sometimes. They have their uses at times, however. Gotta remember that. SW_

**I just feel like there’s only one guy here who’s actually trying to help me and the rest of them are just making my life difficult. They’re… challenged, at best. LA**

_At least you have that one? SW_  
_Dean’s my one. Most days. SW_  
_Okay. Some days. SW_  


**Yeah, I guess. The Captain is a smart one - he’s definitely done well in trying to get me caught up. There’s a LOT that they had on their plates before my arrival and it doesn’t just disappear because the Commander died. LA**

_Captain must be a really good guy, then. Take advantage of his knowledge and mold him to help you the way you want it. SW_  
_Old Commander may have done things a lot differently than you do. Perhaps you can mold him and the rest will follow. SW_

“Sam, dinner’s just about ready,” Castiel announced from the kitchen, where he was assisting Dean. “If Dean will stop,” he added, smacking Dean’s hand when it traveled too low down his back for the twentieth time. 

“You know what that uniform does to me,” Dean excused, eyeing his partner who indeed, was still in his police uniform from work today. Sam smirked at his phone for a moment, amused. 

“I don’t care, Dean, I’m starving - there was barely time for lunch today with the new boss. Should’ve known they call him Lucifer for a reason,” Cas whined and Dean growled, angrily plating the pasta now. 

“You have it under control, right? Do you need some help?” Dean asked. The look Castiel gave Dean easily rivaled Sam’s bitchface. 

“Yes. Please. My knight in shining armor, come and help me with the new boss. I don’t know how I ever could’ve handled Commander Jackson for all those years without your hands on top of mine,” Castiel answered dryly, taking the plates from Dean and placing them on the table before turning to make two salads for himself and Sam. 

“Leave him be, Dean, before you get castrated,” Sam warned, heading into the kitchen now. “I’m sure Castiel has it under control. Start doubting him and he’ll turn on you.” To emphasize Sam’s statement, Castiel turned from where he was slicing cherry tomatoes and pointed his knife at Dean. Dean may not have been very amused but Sam laughed loudly, extremely pleased as they sat down to dinner. 

\-- 

“Charlie, I’ve got a job for you,” Sam called out as he let himself into her apartment around midnight the next night. Charlie was at her desk and barely spared him a glance as she saved and closed whatever game she was playing. “I need information on someone.” 

A dark, mischievous glint entered Charlie’s eyes and she grinned at him, immediately opening up databases. 

“Name?” 

“Lucas Alighieri, originally from Chicago. I want everything you can find. Be thorough but quick,” Sam ordered, tapping his fingertips on her desk as Charlie’s own flew across her keyboard. 

“I’m meeting with Dean tomorrow for lunch. I’ll have a file ready by then.” 

“Dean doesn’t find out about this project, Charlie. This is just a me and you thing,” Sam said, using a voice that was rarely necessary with her. She looked up at him, slight alarm, slight annoyance on her face. 

“Don’t you go all bossman on me, Winchester,” she chided. If it were anyone else, she wouldn’t have seen the light the next morning. But it was fucking Charlie and despite her smart mouth, she was more than just an employee. 

“You hand this off to nobody but me, do you understand?” 

“Sir, yes, Sir.” 

* * *

In a matter of three weeks, Sam and Luke had met up for breakfast five times (they had attempted a few more but Luke didn’t like mornings and often didn’t get up early enough to properly meet with him - the first day of work was a special circumstance). However, they had met for dinner fifteen times with only two overlaps with their breakfast meetings. They had seen each other eighteen times in twenty-one days before Luke finally gave in and used the word ‘date.’ So Sam milked it for all it was worth, teasing him about their first date relentlessly and asking him if he was nervous and was he going to wear a tie. (Spoiler: Luke didn’t wear a tie.) 

In fact, Luke cooked dinner for them both at his place and then they sat down for a movie in his living room. The difference between this date and other times they had dinner at Luke’s place was the physicality - the touches as they moved about the kitchen, Sam allowing his hand on Luke’s lower back to stay there longer than just as he scooted past him, Luke pulling him in close as the stir-fry simmered and playing with his hair. Date number two involved a short hike to a picnic spot, where they sat on a Star Wars blanket (“You just said bring a big blanket! You didn’t say a specific one, Sam!”) and Luke tackled Sam when he was sitting and happily stayed on top of him, talking, for quite some time. And finally, date number three happened in public at a restaurant. 

\-- 

“Sarin? What the hell is sarin?” Sam asked, laughing as Luke took a bite of his burger. “I’m over here making sure these idiots realize that a running car in an enclosed space creates carbon monoxide and you’re dealing with some fuckers who are killing people with some poison I’ve never heard of before,” Sam shook his head, reaching over to steal a fry from Luke’s plate. “Look, we are on two completely different playing fields.” 

“It’s refreshing, Sam, to talk about things with someone who isn’t so serious all the time,” Luke answered, smacking Sam’s hand when he reached for another fry. When Sam shot him puppy-dog eyes though, Luke caved and held out a fry, which Sam took with his mouth instead of his hand. “Even if you are a pain in the ass,” he added, though there was no malice to it - especially not when Sam shot him that smile. 

“And I didn’t know anything about it myself - the Captain and the toxicology reports had to fill me in. It’s a nasty thing. First thing I looked for were earlier reports of local deaths in the same way. They had to make that shit and I figured there’s no way someone makes something that deadly and gets it right on their first try. They had to have made a mistake somewhere, right? But no, there was nothing. I even widened the search out of L.A., still nothing,” Luke complained. He found Sam’s company invaluable and appreciated how the other never hesitated to let him rant about his daily frustrations. In turn, he listened to stories Sam told about his brother, Michael, about his life moving cross-country so frequently, and about work. Despite Sam downplaying the work he did in running the garage, Luke could clearly tell that Sam was a lot smarter than he gave himself credit for. It made him wonder if Sam could’ve gone off to do better things had he been given the chance at a proper education. Luke could really use that brain of his on his team. 

“That’s crazy. Kinda makes you feel unsafe, knowing there’s people out there like that, with access to stuff like that. From what you’re saying, it sounds like it wouldn’t be hard to wipe out the entire city, especially if they’ve gone as far as outlawing it from warfare,” Sam rubbed the back of his neck, looking slightly uncomfortable. 

“Hey, no, don’t think like that. We won’t let that happen. And besides, these guys don’t want that to happen either. Can’t keep power if there’s nobody to control,” Luke pointed out, reaching out his hand to place over Sam’s. Sam looked more at ease with his words and Luke gave him a soft smile. “Come on, let’s talk about something happier, yeah?” He offered, giving Sam’s hand a quick squeeze before letting go. 

They sat and talked for another hour, their food long gone, before finally agreeing that it was probably time to head out. With a generous tip - partially as an apology for holding the waitress’ table for so long - they headed outside and started their walk back to the parking garage they’d left their cars in earlier. Luke walked Sam over to his car, even though it was on the other side of the garage from his own, and they both leaned against the vehicle as they wrapped up their night. 

“I know the implications of what happens on a third date, Lucifer,” Sam pointed out when Luke’s hand found his hip. 

“Do you now?” 

“I do. And I’d just like to make it clear that I’m not that easy.” 

“What if I wasn’t going to ask for sex?” 

“Just a preemptive measure, in that case,” Sam murmured with a slight smirk as Luke stepped in closer and they both leaned in, faces mere inches away from each other. 

“What about a kiss? Do you kiss on a third date, Sam?” Luke asked quietly, his eyes darting down to look at Sam’s lips. Sam ran his tongue over his bottom lip before nodding. 

“Since you asked so nicely,” he whispered in response, leaning in to kiss the other. Sam had expected it to quickly escalate, wanting the other man desperate and panting by the time they were finished, just so he could leave and draw it out longer. He couldn’t chase Luke; he had to make Luke thing it was all his idea, had to make him want Sam so badly that if and when he found out the truth, he couldn’t bare to leave. But it stayed slow and sensual as a hand found his long hair. Luke didn’t pull, he just softly ran his hand through it while the other came to rest on Sam’s chest. Sam had one hand on Luke’s hip and the other on his back, keeping him flushed close as they explored each other’s mouths like long-lost lovers trying to memorize each other again after so long apart. When Luke finally pulled back, it was quiet, both of them just staring at each other until Luke leaned back in for one last soft, chaste kiss. 

“You, Sam Wesson, are more than worth the wait,” Luke whispered, squeezing Sam’s hand before taking a few steps back. “Goodnight.” 

“Goodnight, beautiful.” 

“Dude, you know good and well that if there are plans to meet again after date three, then I have every right to meet whoever it is,” Dean complained the next day over lunch in their office. “You’ve spent more time with him than with me in the past few weeks and you won’t even give me a goddamn name. I’m about to get Charlie to track your ass and get me answers.” 

“Charlie won’t listen to you over me,” Sam pointed out with a challenging look. 

Dean was older, yeah, but that didn’t mean that he was the one in charge around here. That had been his father’s plan in bringing them back to L.A. when Dean turned eighteen. John was grooming Dean, preparing him to take over. But Sam and Dean had an unbreakable bond and Dean wasn’t about to do this alone - an equal playing field for them both, as soon as Sam was old enough, Dean had argued. They’d do it together or not at all. John had protested but when Sam turned eighteen and Dean made it clear that he was serious, John had to fold. He had died the next year anyway and the two brothers had taken over together, in stride every step of the way. But Sam… Sam was the engine behind it all. Sam knew strategy and Sam knew people. He knew how they ticked and who they could trust and most importantly, who they couldn’t. Sam had been the one who brought Castiel into the picture, a brand new beat cop at the time. He had been easily and quickly molded into exactly what they needed him to be and Sam and Dean had planted the seeds for a quick and easy promotion, purposely leaving him one step away from the top. 

In theory and in name, Sam and Dean were both in charge. But even Dean knew that his baby brother had a natural talent for this that he himself had never received - and in the end, if he had wanted the power to himself, he wouldn’t have fought for Sammy to join him. 

“That’s not the fucking point, Sam. I need to check this dude out and make sure he’s not going to cause any problems.” 

“He won’t, Dean.” 

“Let me help decide that. If you’re bringing some random new man into your life, I deserve to know. For my safety, if anything.” 

“Jesus, Dean, you have nothing to be afraid of. Stop acting like I’m fucking the mayor.” 

Dean was quiet for a few beats, brooding in his chair before standing and smacking his hand down on his desk. 

“I’m trusting you, Sam. Don’t do anything stupid.” 

“I won’t!” 

\-- 

“That’s a nice photo. Who is that?” Luke asked when dropping a file off on Captain Novak’s desk. Castiel glanced up, following the Commander’s gaze, and smiled softly, picking up the picture frame. 

“That’s my partner, Michael,” he answered, letting Luke see the photo up close. 

“You look very happy together.” 

“We are - I’m a lucky man. He co-owns a garage downtown with his little brother. I didn’t really have anybody here and then I met the two of them. My life’s been changed ever since,” Castiel explained, setting the photo back down on the desk. He noticed the look on the Commander’s face and tilted his head, unsure of the cause. 

“Commander?” 

“You said his name is Michael, yeah?” 

“Yes. Michael Wesson. His little brother’s name is-” 

“-Sam.” They both said the name in unison and Castiel looked at Luke in confusion. 

“How do you know that?” He asked his boss, appearing to look uncomfortable. Luke chuckled quietly, a small smile finding its way onto his lips. 

“Because I’m seeing Sam. I’ve heard a lot about this Michael of yours.” 

\-- 

**Dean, we need to talk. Now. CN**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts?


	3. Possessive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Violence (fist-fights), gaslighting, and smut (Bottom!Sam) 
> 
> I never said I'd have a consistent upload schedule, did I? 
> 
> Enjoy! xxx

Dean’s fist connected with Sam’s cheekbone before he could even finish walking through the door. 

“What the fuck is your problem?” Sam demanded with a shout, catching his brother’s next fist. 

“When were you going to tell me who he was, what he does?” Dean demanded, his eyes dark. Sam winced, a guilty look briefly flashing over his features, and Dean broke free of Sam’s grasp to hit him again. “Goddammit, Sammy, what the hell are you thinking? Quite a beautiful romance you’ll have when he puts you behind bars for the _rest of your life_. He was brought here to stop **you** , Sam. You. Since when do you have a goddamn death wish?” Dean yelled. Sam grabbed Dean’s arm, twisting it around behind his back and stepping so Dean’s back was against his chest and Sam’s free hand was clutching Dean’s throat. 

“Stop. Hitting. Me.” Sam ordered, his voice low. Dean struggled against him and Sam jerked his arm again, getting close to dislocating Dean’s shoulder. “I’ll let you go when you stop being an ass,” Sam added calmly, waiting until his brother grew still before shoving him away from him. “Dean, think of it this way: I have an inside scoop. I know his next moves, I know his strategies. If anything, I’m keeping us safer by getting together with him.” 

“No, you’re not. You’re being selfish and you’re putting everybody in jeopardy. If you don’t want to think about yourself and your own future here, then at least think about me, about Cas, about Charlie and Kevin. What happens when he figures it out? And how will you feel when you’re the one who is to blame for all of us being behind bars - or worse - because you decided that this one guy was more important than your family?” 

“He’s not going to figure it out anytime soon. And when he does, he’ll be so far gone that it won’t matter. I don’t understand why you refuse to have just a _little_ fucking faith in me. I don’t ask you for much, Dean. And you have to realize that there isn’t a law official in this country that can get enough evidence together to convict us. When the day comes that we’re found out, we can smile and wave at any officer, taunting them because we all know they can’t _actually_ connect us to a goddamn thing,” Sam retorted. 

Dean was quiet after this, staring his baby brother down. He was so angry that he was physically shaking but Sam couldn’t be bothered to care. 

“I never should’ve convinced Dad to let you help me,” Dean’s voice was quiet, packing much more of a punch than it ever would if he had yelled it. If he had yelled it, then Sam would’ve been able to excuse it as anger, pretend like it hadn’t been said. But the calm way that Dean had said it had Sam seeing red and he was swinging on him before he even realized it. 

Fists flew, and soon, so did blood. It splattered on Sam’s hardwood floors as the two brothers attacked each other, moving about the living room like they planned to fight to the death. Pain-filled grunts sounded from both of them until Sam realized that there was yelling in the background that didn’t belong to neither him nor Dean. 

“Stop it, both of you! You’re worse than children!” Castiel was shouting. Dean ignored his partner in favor of hitting a distracted Sam so the younger gladly repaid the favor before Castiel finally gave in, moving between the two of them. Dean stopped mid-swing, able to beat his brother bloody but not harm his boyfriend, and Castiel took the advantage to shove him in the opposite direction as Sam to effectively separate them. When the fight was over, it was over - neither of them felt the need to chase each other around the house to continue their bullshit. 

“C’mere, you idiot,” Castiel muttered, pushing Dean into a chair at the bar and sending him a glare that dared him to try anything while his back was turned to get the materials necessary to clean him up. “Sam, you too. Sit down,” Castiel barked and Sam reluctantly made his way over to the bar, sitting down on the stool beside his brother. Castiel started wiping the blood from Dean’s face, being gentle despite the angry expression, yet when he moved on to Sam, his movements were a lot more careless. 

“Cas, man, chill,” Sam snapped, grabbing the gauze out of Castiel’s hand and getting up to look in a mirror. 

“No. While I don’t agree with the way that Dean chose to handle it, you are the guilty party here,” the officer growled at him, turning his efforts back to Dean and quietly telling him that his nose was broken. Sam hadn’t heard the warning and he turned in alarm when Dean suddenly shouted, eyes wide until he realized that Castiel had reset Dean’s nose. 

“I’m seeing a man that I really care about and that cares about me,” Sam pointed out, turning back to face the mirror to continue cleaning himself up. 

“He doesn’t care about you, Sam, because he doesn’t fucking know you. He cares about the persona you’ve fed him,” Dean commented, earning himself a warning glare from Castiel and a growl from his brother. 

“Fuck off. He knows me, he knows who I am. Just because there’s a part of my life that I omit doesn’t mean that he doesn’t know me,” Sam commented. Castiel prevented Dean from speaking again, not in the mood to entertain the arguing brothers any longer. 

“I don’t care if he cares about you or not, Sam. I care that you put us all in jeopardy,” Castiel pointed out. 

“I don’t see what the harm is. We put you in that position for a reason - it can’t possibly hurt to have someone higher up on the totem pole on our side.” 

“I was on your side _before_ I got my job,” Castiel snarked back, unafraid to get just as angry with Sam as Dean would. Sam briefly considered that Cas had maybe gotten too comfortable, maybe felt a little too safe in his place with them if he could disrespect him without a second of hesitation. However, there wasn’t much he could do about it - there was no reminding Castiel who was in charge without an outright uprisal against him led by Dean. “And you put everything in jeopardy because I’ve been working him the same way that I worked Jackson and I had no idea that he had even met you, much less that he was fucking you, Sam.” 

“I don’t see why anything has to be different than it was with you and Jackson-” 

“He’s closer to the situation, Sam. There’s no room for a slip up from either of us. I’m over here pretending to mourn a man that I had a huge part in killing and then he’s going off to run his mouth to you about it - there’s going to be a fuckup somewhere and the man is smart enough to piece it together,” Castiel corrected, rubbing antiseptic ointment on the cuts on Dean’s face. 

“I’m not stupid, I know he’s going to find out. But it’ll be when I think he’s ready to find out, when I think he’s far enough gone that I can tell him and it won’t backfire,” Sam explained, grabbing the ointment from Cas in order to apply it to the spots where Dean had split his skin. “I need a little fucking faith from you both because I’m not getting rid of him. I think he can be really useful if we try hard enough. Just lay low, gently guide him into a time-consuming dead-end. I’ll let him know when I’m absolutely sure.” 

“And if you tell him and it’s not as smooth as you’re hoping it’ll be? If your ass doesn’t excuse what you’ve done?” Dean demanded, before Castiel could answer. 

“Then I’ll dispose of him.” 

\-- 

“Saaaaaam,” Luke whined, the taller man trying his best to ignore him. “I should be the one who’s upset with you for not telling me that the Captain is your brother’s boyfriend. You kept that from me.” 

“Because it’s not my business to share that information. I wasn’t even sure if Cas was out at work, I wasn’t about to run my mouth about him dating a man.” 

Luke gave Sam a deadpan look, not believing that those words had just come out of his mouth. He paused, glancing down purposefully to observe their position. Luke was straddling Sam’s hips as the other laid in his bed, a book now resting open on the bed beside him but had previously been shielding the long-haired man’s face. 

“Do you… I.. Sam,” Luke started, slightly confused and trying not to laugh. “Sam, Castiel’s _boss_ is sitting on a half-naked man’s lap while said half-naked man is sporting faded hickies from - you guessed it - Castiel’s boss,” he pointed out, his fingertips tracing over a faded bruise on Sam’s collarbone. 

“Luke, you’re not the only one that matters in that situation. If Castiel wasn’t out, I had no business saying anything because what about his colleagues? What about the workers who are _under_ him? What about _your_ bosses? Just, overall, it was not my place to tell you, not when I was unaware,” he answered simply, his hands finding Luke’s waist. Luke sighed and placed his hand gently on Sam’s cheek, looking at the damage that had been done. 

“I’m really sorry, Sam, that I made your brother so angry at you. I just don’t understand the problem with you being with me - it’s not like it can be because I’m a guy or because I’m a cop,” Luke murmured quietly. 

“He’s angry that I kept it from him. We don’t have many secrets so it really pissed him off in general but the fact that he had to find out through Cas instead of me… it was a problem.” 

“I’m sorry I got you hurt. I didn’t mean to cause any harm,” Luke assured. 

“Come on Lucifer, you know you meant to get my ass kicked,” he pointed out with a wink. 

“You caught me. I didn’t want to have to leave you myself so I planted the seeds to force you to leave me instead. And the way you ignored me all day, I’d almost believe that it started to work,” Luke joked. He had been ignored that day, which had really frustrated him. There had been no goodnight or good morning text (or response), nothing throughout the day, and nothing after he knew Sam should’ve gotten off of work. He had eventually given up and just drove to Sam’s place, banging on his door until he answered it. Sam had walked away from him as soon as he opened the door and Luke followed. At first he had just sat down on the edge of the bed, trying to get Sam to talk to him, and eventually had gotten on top of him in order to draw his attention away from the damn book he was reading. It had worked (after a bit of purposeful wiggling on Luke’s part) and while he had been filled with frustration, he was now merely relieved that things were okay between him and Sam. 

“I’m sorry, Luce,” Sam murmured, his hand finding Luke’s. Luke splayed his palm against Sam’s larger one, silently admiring the difference shown by Sam’s huge hands before shifting a centimeter and lacing their fingers together. 

“No, Sammy, I’m sorry. You got hurt because I ran my mouth,” Luke apologized, folding over Sam’s chest and laying over top of him. He mouthed at Sam’s collarbone and pressed kisses to the base of his neck, humming. 

“I think I can think of a way or two for you to make it up to me,” Sam replied with a smirk. He was just pleased that he had pulled off having Luke believe that he was the one at fault here. 

Luke hummed happily, lifting his head for a proper kiss as he used his free hand to run through Sam’s hair. Sam wrapped his arms around the other, kissing him freely for a little while before his fingers found the front of Luke’s dress shirt and he began to undo the buttons there. He could feel the other pause for just half a second before continuing with his eager kiss and allowing himself to run his hands down Sam’s chest. Sam followed the other up, going into a sitting position as shoved his shirt off and only then did Sam pull away in order to admire his partner’s torso. He peppered kisses over the skin, feeling Luke’s fingers tangle in his hair, before coming back up to Luke’s mouth. 

“Are you sure you’re ready?” Luke asked, pulling back so he could see Sam’s eyes. His fingers were splayed on Sam’s cheeks, touching him as if he were the most delicate thing in all of existence (which was rather laughable, if only Luke knew). Sam just looked at the other with wide, innocent eyes, and nodded slowly. 

“I care about you, Lu,” he assured quietly. “I trust you,” he added, giving Luke a soft kiss. 

“If I do anything you don’t like, tell me and I’ll stop, I promise,” Luke whispered. Sam smiled and nodded. 

“I know you will.” 

“Do you have what we need? I didn’t necessarily think this was going to happen today..” 

“I do, yeah,” Sam confirmed, reaching over to his nightstand and pulling out a bottle of lube and a condom as Luke stayed in place on Sam’s hips. Luke took the items, placing them beside him on the bed, and slowly pushed Sam back down into the bed. 

“I’m going to take such good care of you,” Luke whispered, connecting their lips. 

\-- 

Luke did, indeed, take care of him. He catered well to Sam’s innocent persona - one not claiming to be a virgin but reserving sex for only meaningful connections. And once they finished, both panting and sated, Luke slowly slid out. Sam withheld the whine he wanted to give, the whine that could give away that while he did enjoy what they had done, he wanted - no, needed - more. The condom was tied and tossed away and soon Luke was pulling the blankets over top of both of them and wrapping his arms around Sam. 

“Just close your eyes. I’m right here, Sam,” he whispered, turning the larger man into the smaller spoon and nustling his chin in Sam’s sweaty hair. “You are so beautiful… I never really thought I’d find the right person for me. I definitely didn’t expect to find him within a week of moving to L.A… Thank you, Sammy, for everything.” They both began to drift off, Luke whispering sweet nothings to the other until he himself fell asleep as well. 

Sam woke up about an hour later, still encased in Luke’s embrace and he stayed for a few moments before wiggling out of his grip. Luke whined, reaching out for the man, and Sam shushed him. 

“I’m just going to the bathroom. Go back to sleep,” he whispered, leaning over him and pressing a kiss to his forehead. This calmed the blond and Sam made his way to the en suite in order to piss and clean himself up a bit. 

Luke faded in and out of sleep and was still too out of it to realize that when he heard a door open, the water in the bathroom was still running. 

“Sammy?” He mumbled, not opening his eyes. 

There was a click that Luke didn’t register until he felt something cold being pressed against his temple. He didn’t move but his eyes shot open, meeting green eyes surrounded with freckles. 

“Only I call him Sammy,” the man growled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah? Yeah. 
> 
>  
> 
> Also, Last First Kiss will have a drabble out soon! xxx


End file.
